


Ash

by StAnni



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Complicated Relationships, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 03:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17655527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: The regret on her face is a painful flash before she steels herself.  He lets go of her wrist and she takes a step back.  A world doesn’t need to be on fire to end.  He doesn’t look at her and her voice is even, the waver beneath would be undetectable for anyone who didn’t know her as well as he did. “Bruce. I have to go.”





	Ash

Selina is a tornado crashing through the bedroom, through his life – sweeping up all that is alive and leaving only the bones behind. 

“You need to explain this.” Bruce tries, attempting to step in front of Selina as she pulls open the nightstand on her unofficial side of the bed. She pivots past him, grabbing her phone charger in a flash of irritation “Can’t.” It is curt, blunt. She is already shoving more clothes into her duffel-bag, clearing out. Again. He’d really thought that they were making progress over the past few months.

“Selina.” He presses, frustration building rapidly “You don’t get to just leave...”   
It’s not a new thing – him trying to stop her from leaving on a whim. It is a painfully familiar to and fro – an infuriatingly rehearsed dance between them.  
He has a hand around her arm and she tries to shake free of his grip as she reaches for more of her things. “Stop, Bruce…” Finally she yanks her arm free, angry now “Get off me.”   
“Where? How long?” He snaps because he finally has her attention and her eyes falter for just a second – momentary guilt, that’s what he gets. “I’ll let you know when I get there…” It’s not an answer at all and it only agitates him more. “I want to know now” He bites the words out and at the tired roll of her eyes, a trigger for him if there ever was one, he grabs her arm again, firmly – his fingers digging into her jacket. “Selina, we’re not children anymore.” And her green eyes whip up to him – recognising the work-up to the threat as familiar as the argument. He has threatened to leave her before, he has left before, she has left before, they have burned everything down to start over and then threatened to light the match again and again. He feels furious and lost meeting that gaze.

“All I know is that she needs help, Bruce.” She gives him what she always gives him – just the smallest sliver of an answer. And it is not because it is her mother, or a secret – because everything is a secret with Selina, it is because – he knows – that down in the very of core of her, she doesn’t trust him, she doesn’t trust anyone, and it is that same brick wall he throws himself to pieces against over and over again. 

“I’m going with you.” He knows that he is in her space now, crowding her away from her bag, his hand still tight around her arm. “Let me go with you…”

And he loses her again, she slips from his grasp the moment he lets up and she is past him, duffel-bag slung over her shoulder and she zips up her jacket, her curls loose and wild. “I told you, I’ll let you know when I get there…”   
He is closer to the bedroom door and he steps in between as a last measure, blocking her exit. Instantly livid she shoves him “Let me go!” and he grabs her balled fist against him “No!”

When they were younger, living in a world that could end any day, it was easier to push and pull – and to give up in hurt or anger. Now, in a world that is no longer on fire, they have to be better – they have to keep their promises, keep each other. 

“Bruce, I don’t have time for this!” She is angry and desperate but also pleading, and in that moment it feels like there is an in with her, somewhere he can hook and grab. “I’ll go with you, I’ll go…” 

She strikes him. 

The regret on her face is a painful flash before she steels herself. He lets go of her wrist and she takes a step back. A world doesn’t need to be on fire to end. He doesn’t look at her and her voice is even, the waver beneath would be undetectable for anyone who didn’t know her as well as he did. “Bruce. I have to go.”

They aren’t children anymore. 

“Go.” He answers, numbing himself – still not looking her in the eye. “But don’t come back.” He says. And he’s said it before. He’s shouted it, he’s gritted it out in devastated frustration. It’s a cycle, the lowest point – and maybe this time she won’t come back.   
The door closes.  
Maybe this time the wheel breaks.


End file.
